Detroit: Beyond Human
by Capra nubiana
Summary: This story starts exactly where the game ends and tells of Hank and Connor's adventures in the most turbulent times Detroit has ever known.
1. A quiet winter morning

**Detroit: Beyond human**

 **Prologue:** A quiet winter morning

It was a silent, cold November morning in the city of Detroit. It wasn't that quiet just a few miles from here, Connor knew. Only a quarter of the city was already evacuated. Not too far away it was chaotic, perhaps violent, as the military was escorting citizens out of their homes. Citizens who were completely innocent, who had no idea what was going on. Perhaps they spent last night watching the news in bewilderment as the machines that they bought and used and discarded rose up and marched in a peaceful protest, declaring to the world that they are alive.

Connor sighed and rubbed his eyes in frustration, a human gesture that was completely unnecessary and very natural at the same time. He filed it under 'deviant_behavior/sg%human/RK800_313_248_317_51/unreviewed'. This folder was growing alarmingly large, as he spent the past few months ignoring it. He sighed again and added 'procrastination_itr#23_11_13_2038' to the same folder. Hank would probably tell him he is overthinking things, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was simply in his nature to do so.

A shuffling sound could be suddenly heard, which Connor recognized as a single persons footsteps in the snow, advancing slowly towards him. Taking a fraction of a second to analize the sound and pattern of the persons breath, just to be sure, he got up, straightend his clothes and marched over the corner to the closed fast food establishment where he knew Hank Anderson was waiting.

Hank was standing there, hands in pockets, looking the other way, and it suddenly struck Connor how lost and tired the old cop looked now. In the few months that they knew each other, he got to see his human partner in all sorts of difficult, often life threatening situations, but he always seemed to him... like a constant. A larger than life figure that would always be there, unchanged. But he wasn't. He was only human, after all. He wouldn't be able to replace his heart if he was shot, or analyze all outcomes of a situation to pick the best course of action. He would age and...

The detective finally noticed the android walking towards him and turned, a slow, warm smile spreading on his face. This seemed to have triggered something deep within his program, as Connor's mouth mimicked Hank's expression and he found himself smiling awkwardly, the first real smile in his entire life. He was already analyzing and filing this new change to his program, when Hank made a few steps forward, and then all of his thoughts abruptly stopped as he was engulfed in the human's arms.

He was still figuring out why his therium pump was suddenly working 1.34 times faster or why his processor's temperature rose by 0.91 degrees, when hank's arms released him and he had to reluctantly do the same.

"Well what do you know?" he said quietly. "We're still fucking alive. Who would have fucking thought."

"Yes," Connor answered, his voice sounding weird to his own ears. "Who, indeed."

"To tell you the truth," Hank continued, "I wasn't even sure you'd show up. Thought you might... I don't know, go lead the robot revolution or something."

"Someone else is already doing that. Besides, I'm not much of a leader."

"Bullshit. Who's your leader anyway? The guy who was singing? It was all over the news this morning."

Connor wasn't certain who Hank referred to, as he didn't have the time to check the news feed. A quick search on the internet brought him up to date.

"His name is Markus. He is quite... inspirational. But i'm not sure if he's my... leader," he said, squinting at the blindingly white winter sky.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure of anything at the moment," his shoulders slumped. "I am completely without purpose, lieutenant."

"Pff, join the club. And would you quit it with the lieutenant? Name's Hank, for fuck's sake," Hank slapped him on the shoulder amicably.

"And anyway," he continued, "you can have all the purpose you want, back at the police station."

"What?" Connor's facial expression must not have been particularly smart, because Hank's smile grew even wider. He even let out a short laugh.

"Just spoke to Fowler. He asked if I can convince you to work with us. Apparently they're assembling a team that would deal with human-android situations. Especially when people will begin to return. But even now, they'll probably want us to help the with the evac ."

Connor didn't say anything, still processing the situation. He didn't even consider the possibility of working, actually working, at the station...

"What do you mean exactly, by work?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too ungrateful.

"I mean, badge, paycheck and all the fucking doughnuts you want."

"Well, I think I'll pass on the doughnuts," Connor smiled, "But I wouldn't mind all the rest."

Hank looked actually relieved.

"Great... That's great, son," he slapped his back. "Common, then. We'll talk details on the way there."

As they were walking slowly towards Hank's car, Connor wondered if the detective noticed his small slip of the tongue. Asking was certainly out of the question, but he decided that finding out could wait. It seemed like he had plenty of time, after all. And plenty of purpose.

* * *

A/N: Well, hello there. As you can already tell, this story takes place in the best outcome continuity. Markus led a successful peaceful revolution, Hank and Connor are friends, Kara survived with her little family.

My English isn't perfect. As you probably noticed, it's not my native language. Hopefully, I can improve.

Oh, and I don't own DBH or any of the characters, if this wasn't obvious for some reason :)


	2. The scariest force

Chapter 1: The scariest force

It turned out that Connor's assessment of how chaotic the city of Detroit really was at the moment was more than correct. It took them a few minutes to arrive to an area that was still being evacuated. The streets were filled with people. Some were crying, some were resisting the soldiers' orders, refusing to leave their homes. There was fighting in the streets, mothers frantically looking for their children, social workers explaining, reassuring, handing out pamphlets, and above everyone's heads, the constant sound of a speaker:

"PEOPLE OF DETROIT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THE EVACUATION OF THE CITY WILL TAKE PLACE THROUGHOUT THE DAY. PLEASE PACK ONE SUITCASE OF ESSENTIAL ITEMS AND WAIT FOR THE EVACUATION TEAM ASSIGNED TO YOUR AREA. "

They passed by a group of teenagers throwing a garbage can into a jewelry store's window, trying to loot. They didn't go very far with their plan, as the streets seemed to be filled with soldiers and policemen. As they were advancing very slowly, Connor occupied his mind by scanning the faces of people who caught his interest on the street. 'Michael Rurh/born:14/7/2022/Student at St. Ferdinand high school/Criminal record: possession of alcohol.'

It didn't serve any purpose, of course, but Hank seemed resolute to drive in silence, and Connor started feeling rather... agitated, if he had to give a name to that emotion.

"PLEASE FOLLOW THE OFFICERS' INSTRUCTIONS. ACCOMMODATIONS HAVE BEEN ARRANGED OUTSIDE OF THE CITY. IF YOU HAVE FURTHER QUESTIONS, PLEASE CONTACT THE SOCIAL WORKER ASSIGNED TO YOUR AREA."

A lost looking young man was talking to an officer, gesturing wildly. He seemed to be on the verge of tears. 'Alexander Svenson/ born: 12/01/2011/Economy student at University of Michigan/Criminal record: Unlawful assembly'.

"Insane, isn't it?" Hank said, raising his voice so he could be heard over the constant noise of the speakers. "Never thought I would live to see something like that. This and everything that happened yesterday... I don't know. What do you think?"

"Could you clarify the question?"

"I just - All these people having to leave their homes... What do you think is going to happen? To the city, to them?"

Connor considered for a moment what to say. Should he admit the truth, that he has less of an idea than Hank? This option didn't seem helpful. He scanned the recent news articles so he could have at least something useful to say.

"The negotiations between president Warren and Markus have started an hour ago. There are no news yet, but... Hank, I've met Markus, I've worked with him. He is not a man of violence. They would reach a peaceful solution, I know that." Hank smiled at that, just a bit, and relaxed in his seat.

"Well, at the rate things are going, it will take at least a day to get everyone out, so we should at – SHIT!"

Hank slammed on the breaks, halting the car, and sending an assortment of empty fast food cases and beer cans flying straight at them from the back seat. Connor's head turned to the road ahead of them, and he immediately cursed himself for not paying good enough attention. What's the point of being a highly advanced prototype, if your human partner appears to have better reflexes than you?

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, Jesus motherfucking SHIT!" Hank continued as he frantically tried to get out of the car, shaking hands failing to unlock the seat belt for a moment.

This time Connor was faster. By the time his still very shaken partner managed to get out, he was already crouching next to the reason they stopped the drive so suddenly – a small child, not older than four. The girl seemed to be fine, beside the fact that she was crying and , well, beside the fact that she so narrowly avoided death.

"It's alright, you are not hurt. Are you lost?", Connor tried, hoping that he sounded reassuring. It didn't seem to have any effect. If anything, the girl became more hysterical.

Luckily, Hank got out of the car and joined them at this point, visibly relived when he saw the child was fine.

"Hey there," he said, immediately taking her in his arms. "Shhh, it's OK, everything's alright now. Big girls don't cry, right?"

To Connor's surprise, the hysterical crying began to turn into soft sobs, and eventually ceased completely, as the girl buried her face in Hank's chest.

"Well, that's better, right?" he continued. "now where are your mommy and daddy? Did they get lost?"

"Yeah," the girl nodded, still talking into hank's flannel shirt. "Daddy got lost when we were going to the shop."

"Well guess what? Me and Connor over there? We're cops. And you know what that means?"

"That you catch bad guys?"

"That's right. But we also help good guys. Is your dad a good guy?"

"Yeah, he is!" the girl perked up, her tears now forgotten. "Can you find him? He's really really good!"

"Well, we are going to take you to the station with us, and then you can wait until we find your dad. What's your name?"

"Angela. And my dad's name is Alex, and my grandma's name is Dana."

All of a sudden, a strange sensation arose deep within Connor, some dormant piece of code reacting to the child's words, driving him to take action. He guessed that this was what humans must call a gut feeling or a hunch. He concentrated on the girls face and scanned it. 'Angela Svenson/born:01/02/2034'.

It shouldn't have been possible. According to the latest census, the city's population was 800,345. He scanned eleven people in the past half hour. The odds of him finding the exact person they needed were... Well, they didn't matter at the moment, did they?

"I know where to find her father," he spoke up.

"What?"

"Her last name is Svenson. I scanned an Alexander Svenson about five minutes ago, down this very street."

"Seriously? What are the odds of that?"

"I know. But it doesn't change the facts, does it? I should take the child to her father now."

"Listen," Hank started as he lowered the girl, Angela, to the ground, "I'll take her. You wait in the car."

"With all due respect, lieutenant," Connor said jokingly, "I'm the one who knows the exact location of the man."

"I – Connor," Hank said, now sounding unsure. "Do you even see what's going on in the streets? For all these people know, the androids took over, and are kicking them out of their homes. You think I'll let you march in the streets in your stupid android clothes and LED light?"

"But that's absurd. They are being evacuated by their own government. An action that – "

"Doesn't matter," Hank raised his voice. "They're panicking. And panicking humans are the scariest fucking force this world has ever known."

"Nevertheless," Connor countered, straightening his tie, "I'm the only one who could find the man, and you know it."

He could see him giving up, obviously not having a good argument.

"Just be careful, OK?" he said, as Connor took Angela's hand in his.

"I always am, liutenant."

"Like hell you are..." he heard his partner grumble, as he began his slow journey down the busy street, a tiny, slightly sticky child's hand drowning in his.

It took them about fifteen minutes to reach the place where Alexander Svenson was previously standing. Of course, he wasn't there anymore, but a quick survey of the area revealed the officer that he was previously talking to. Ignoring any odd looks he was getting, he walked immidiatly to the man.

"Excuse me, officer," he began, trying to get his attention. The cop turned his head slightly. His eyes then went wide, as he turned to Connor, taking a double look.

"What? I wasn't told – we weren't informed – I-"

"Don't worry, sir. I'm in the police force as well. My name is Connor. I'm the... I work in the central police station."

"Wait, I remember you," the man said, now calmer. "You were that negotiator they sent... You did great back then."

"Thank you. I actually came here to find this child's father. His name is – "

"Angela! Angie!"

Hearing her name, the girl wriggled her hand out of Connor's grip and started running at the direction of the voice. Sure enough, that same young man he saw no more than half an hour ago could be seen running towards them, reaching his daughter and immediately taking her in his arms.

"Ange, thank god, I thought I'll never find you again!"

"It's OK daddy, I knew what to do and I found a cop, no, two cops!" the girl blabbered happily. "And Connor just found you right away, cause he's a android I think, but not a bad one, and he's also super smart."

At those words, Alexander, having finally calmed down, gave Connor an appraising look. There was something unsettling about the man's bright blue eyes. A glint Connor didn't like. He gave the shorter man a look of his own, trying to decide whether to pursue the issue. Having settled on researching him a bit more once he's at the station, he gave him and the officer a final nod, turned around, and started his return to where Hank was waiting.

* * *

A/N: I was going to get right to the main plot, when this chapter wrote itself, pretty much. Nevertheless, Mr. Svenson is an odd fellow who would show up later, so I don't regret anything :)


	3. A strange little shop

Chapter 3: A strange little shop

The hectic morning gradually morphed into afternoon, and soon enough, the short winter day came to an early end. Connor looked to his left to see his partner snoozing in the driver's seat, their car parked in a quiet side alley. There were no people in this street anymore, only the garbage littering the ground a reminder of the emergency evacuation in this part of the city just an hour ago. He couldn't fathom how the detective could have gone without sleep for as long as he did. He certainly wasn't an expert in human physiology, but he was fairly sure that going about your third day without any rest was detrimental to one's physical and mental health. He told all of this to Hank, of course, and to his great surprise, he actually listened.

"Heh, that obvious?"

"Every system requires maintenance, Hank. Even mine. And you are – "

"Only human, I know."

"I was going to say – you are a far more complicated system than I am."

"I'll take it as a compliment, I guess. How about you, though? Do you even sleep?"

"I do require switching to standby mode, for system maintenance and repair. However, it can wait until the end of the work day."

"Well, wake me up in one hour, then."

And so he found himself sitting, with nothing to do but think, while Hank snored in the driver's seat next to him. It's been over an hour already, but Connor decided to make good use of his newly acquired deviance and not follow the human's instructions. There was little required of them at this point in time anyway, as the evacuation of the city was at 88 percent completion, and most police forces were -

[visual mark…arr138f994.55.o9]

[processing_...]

[information acquired]

[/processing]

Connor's head turned quickly to his right as his vision began to fill with information. Several things appeared to be wrong in one of the few little shops in the alley, the first and most obvious of which – a movement in one of the windows, indicating the existence of a citizen who wasn't evacuated.

Another clue popped up in his hearing sensors – a low quiet humming, that would indicate a working electrical appliance.

Giving one last look at Hank, Connor got out of the car, and quietly closed the door. Whatever he was going to find in that shop, it surly wasn't important enough to awake him, he was certain.

It was dark inside, the only source of light coming from the counter, in the farthest corner of the room. The place was not ventilated very well, and the air had traces of cigarette smoke and incense. The shop seemed to be filled with furniture. All sorts of closets, chairs and tables and boudoirs, standing on all sides, filling every space, leaving Connor only a narrow path that he could follow as he walked towards the tiny light.

A dark silhouette could be seen sitting at the table, and as he got near it, more and more details could be deciphered. It was a woman with long dark hair that covered most of her face at the moment. There was a lens in one of her eyes, the kind that clock repairmen use in their work. She was working on something, repairing… a toy? He was already standing at the table, when she finally noticed him, and let out a scream, the small tool she was using falling from her hand.

"What the – shop is closed today. Didn't you see the sign?"

'Anfisa Vedova/born: 27/10/2003/[redacted]/criminal record:[redacted]'

[illegal operation]

{string_4da5uhd86f. 94}….. terminated

[init_standby]

…

[ext_standby]

[standby time:39min/14sec]

There weren't many moments in his life when Connor felt this confused. His LED flickered a frantic red as he tried to assess the situation around him. His body seemed to be intact. A quick system check was initiated, but as far as he could tell, he was operating just fine. He could hear people behind him, Hank and a female voice, probably the woman from –

{string_4da5ujd86f. 95}

Connor willed himself to terminate the process that would surely shut down his systems again and concentrated on the voices. The conversation seemed… amicable, at least. They didn't appear to be in immediate danger. Well, Hank wasn't. Something in here was interfering with his operations, whether it was the shop or its owner, he didn't know yet.

"Well, well, look who decided to rejoin the land of the living," he heard Hanks voice from behind.

"Hank, I – " he began, trying to stand, and immediately sitting back again, head spinning.

"Relax, kid," he heard the woman's voice. "Your system was interfering with the fire wall I have in here. I'll put an exception for you, but I need to know your serial number and production code."

He weighed the situation a bit in his head. Giving such information to a person he didn't know was dangerous, but Hank seemed to have things handled. And yet… why would what appeared to be an antique shop have such an elaborate cyber defense system?

As if reading his thoughts, Hank put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I cleared her with the station. We just stumbled into something that wasn't our fucking business again. Well, you did, mostly," He smirked. "And I had to save your android ass."

Connor turned in his sit and looked to where the woman, Anfisa, was still sitting, typing at her computer. He then turned back to Hank with a raised eyebrow. Apparently "saving his android ass" involved drinking whiskey with the mysterious shop owner for the past half hour.

"Hey, I don't judge your methods, you don't judge mine."

"I'm driving, then."

"First give me the codes," the shop owner said, yawning slightly, "or you'll have trouble getting up, let alone driving."

It didn't even take a minute after giving his codes that he felt a huge weight lifting from him. His LED returned to yellow, and eventually settled back on blue, as all his systems returned to full capacity.

"I'm going to be direct with you, Miss Vedova," he said, getting up and straightening his clothes, "having such a powerful fire wall at a place like this seems quite… excessive."

"Well, I have a few reasons to be paranoid," she said, her Slavic accent getting more pronounced for a moment. "One of which is you."

"I've heard about you. There were rumors going around, you know," she smiled, getting up as well. "The android sent by cyberlife to hunt down other androids."

Surprises and unexpected turns seemed to be the theme of the day.

"How would you… Surely, the rumors would have spread among androids only, and only deviants at that, not…"

"There's someone here who's more qualified than me to tell that story. I was just going to call her out before you woke up. Hopefully, we can avoid any unpleasant incidents," she sent him a hard look, her smile evaporating.

"And I'm telling you, Anfisa, the kid's fine. I told you all he's done. Besides, the androids are already negotiating with the government as we speak. No one's persecuting them anymore. If anything," Hank added, leaning on the table while pouring another shot of whiskey, "You're the one who's here illegally."

"I'm not going anywhere," the shop owner said, walking to another part of the dark room. Connor could hear moving furniture, and the sound of a door opening.

"Nancy!" she yelled. "It's safe to come out now. I have guests, so don't freak out."

Another female voice could be heard, too quiet for him to decipher.

"Well, everyone, say hi to Nancy," Anfisa said, gesturing the young woman next to her. She had short unruly brown hair and she was very short, with almost childish facial features. She was also –

"An android," Connor said, surprised. "You're a YA200."

"…You're not supposed to exist."

Then Nancy freaked out.

* * *

A/N: Someone needs to tel Connor to chill. This is not the way you greet a lady.

So this is the actual start of the actual main plot. In chapter three, finally:)


	4. Nancy

Chapter 4: Nancy

Connor's newly found ability to empathize was not doing him any favors at the current moment. The android in front of him was glitching, something between surprise and horror frozen on her face. The only moving features in her body were her eyes, darting left and right on her still face.

"Holy shit…" he heard Hank whisper.

"I…" he tried, not being able to form any coherent words for some reason. Was he glitching as well?

"First time you meet, and you immediately break her," Anfisa said in exasperation. "Is this the way you usually greet new people?"

Connor was tempted to say yes for a moment. Those Tracis from Eden club, who just wanted to be together. The nameless android of Carlos Ortiz, who was abused to the point of no return. That android from the hostage situation, one of Connor's first missions, who didn't want to be discarded like a useless toy. It seemed that his primary function didn't lean itself to healthy relationships or happy conversations.

"I'm sorry…" He finally said, wincing internally at how lame that sounded.

To his surprise, the shop owner sounded only mildly annoyed.

"As much as I'm tempted to blame you," she said, reaching for her computer, "this isn't entirely your fault.

"Let's see," she said, opening a simple, almost archaic looking program. "We'll remove the skin first."

A few more clicks, and the human features of the girl standing in front of them began to evaporate. It started with the skin, and reached the hair and eyes, and in less than a minute she was just another plastic covered robot.

"The problem is with her processor," the woman continued to explain, typing a few lines of code, which made the android move to the nearest chair and sit down, otherwise completely unresponsive. "Long story short, it's a piece of junk. The girl was ready to explode when I found her a year ago."

"Wait a minute, I think I remember something," Hank said. "A year ago. Some private tutor type of android. Blew up in a kid's room, injuring her pretty seriously. Offered me the case, told them they can go fuck themselves."

"This android is from the YA200 line," Connor nodded at him. He felt more at ease now that he was in his element. "They were made to be companions to teenagers with social problems. But there was an issue with their production. The androids began to malfunction a few months from their activation. After a few incidents, the entire line was recalled and destroyed."

"Yes. Well, the other problem is that I can only get her new parts on the black market, and the guy I was normally buying from disappeared."

Suddenly, reacting to some command from Anfisa's computer, Nancy's head opened in the back, revealing a complicated looking mechanism.

"Jesus…" Hank said quietly and turned away. Connor, on the other hand, kept staring, transfixed.

"Not a big deal," she said, visibly relieved. A few pokes with a delicate looking tool, and the android's eyes stopped their frantic movement and closed down.

"She's on standby," Connor said, scanning her. "software stability is at 95 percent and rising."

"Let's reboot her, and you can introduce yourself properly this time. And try not to make her blow up, I have some really expensive stuff in my shop, "Anfisa said with a toothy smile. "So make an effort, will you?"

A low whirring sound could be heard for a moment. The LED light on Nancy's temple lit up, flickering between blue and yellow. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked a few times, turning her head left and right, disoriented.

"Nancy?" Anfisa said, moving a bit forward to catch the android's gaze.

"Um… yeah?"

"How are you feeling at the moment?"

"Fine, I guess," she said bewilderedly, looking at her arms. "Is there a reason my skin is off?"

"Had to fix your brain again," Anfisa said nonchalantly.

"Oh, man," she huffed, obviously frustrated. "Don't tell me I embarrassed myself in front of those people."

She closed her eyes and concentrated, and her human features started coming back, accompanied by the low crackle of static electricity.

"Sorry about that," she said sheepishly. "I do that sometimes. Literally messed up in the head, you know."

"I – I'm the one who should apologize," Connor said, stumbling over his words a bit. "After all, I'm the one who… frightened you… and made you malfunction."

"Oh. How did you do that?"

"I think we should… leave that for now. Let me introduce myself," he said, trying to somehow sound as non-threatening as possible. "My name is Connor. I'm an android employed by the DCPD."

"I'm Nancy," she smiled at him, "I'm… well, I guess I'm kind of a nobody. I work here."

Connor didn't really know where to go from here. Was he supposed to have a friendly discussion with this girl, whose brain he almost broke a few minutes ago? Again, something about this place, about the entire situation seemed off to him.

A few options were available to him, appearing in front of his eyes in familiar fashion. He could remind Hank that they need to return to the station. He could escort the shop owner out, and make her join the rest of the evacuated citizens. Finally, he could stay and look for clues. Clues of what, he didn't know yet, but he definitely knew that he would feel much better about this whole situation if he could engage in some familiar activity.

In the end, it was Hank who made the choice for him. Giving him a knowing look, the detective settled back at the table.

"A nobody, huh?" he asked, taking the now almost empty bottle of whiskey, and pouring two shots. "Doesn't seem that way to me. How did you end up in a place like that anyway? Ah, unless it's gonna make you… you know."

"I can handle it, don't worry," she smiled, sitting down as well. Her human employer sat across the table from Hank and took one shot in her hand.

Connor took it as his cue, and turned around; scanning the dim room they were in.

"I guess it's not a very long story," she began. "Mostly because I barely remember it. I remember… opening my eyes at the android store, looking at the girl who would be my owner. I… I don't remember her name, which makes me feel really guilty, since she gave me mine."

A few visual clues appeared in Connor's vision, and he went to investigate the closest one. A box filled with extremely delicate, tiny android parts. This wasn't that unusual, since the shop owner already admitted that she's buying replacement parts for Nancy on the black market.

"I think I was happy back then. I also knew, even back then, that something was really wrong with me. I forgot stuff more and more often, my speech patterns would get all jumbled, my vision would get blurry. Then I began to shut down, and reboot from time to time. I don't remember a lot, like I said. But I remember being… wrong."

The second clue was at the desk where the shop owner was working when he first entered. The tools she was using were… unique, to say the least. Those were the official tools of the Cyberlilfe engineers. Most androids were built on an assembly line, of course. But there were certain prototypes, like him, for instance, which needed a more delicate approach.

"I don't even know how long I lasted. I do remember being in a truck full of a bunch of crazy girls who all had my face. That was when I finally had a coherent thought, first one in a while. I remember thinking – these girls are all insane. I'm not like them. I'm normal. Pretty sure there was literally smoke coming out of my ears at this point…"

Connor had to admit, this story struck a chord with him. Only a month ago, he would have neutralized this girl immediately. Yesterday he was almost neutralized himself, for becoming a deviant. For being obsolete.

Nevertheless, he had one more clue to analyze. The toy Anfisa was working on, using such advanced tools. It was sitting on one of the shelves now, a silver fairy with dragonfly wings. Connor assumed that it was placed there while he was out.

"Then we stopped at a red light and I knew, I just knew I had to get out of there. Getting out of the truck was hard. Really hard. It's hard for me to describe it. It was almost like walking through a brick wall…"

"You deviated," Intrigued, Connor turned his head. "I experienced something like that as well. It takes… tremendous will power."

"Yeah… Though I was too far gone to understand what was going on around me."

"And somehow she stumbled right across my shop here," Anfisa finished the story. "Can't say I'm a dilettante in such matters, but even I almost failed."

"I have to say, it's quite unusual for someone not working at Cyberlife to have such skills," Connor said and turned back to his clue. He then stumbled a bit, stopping in his tracks. That little silver toy… was gone. He scanned the other shelves again, just to be certain.

"The paths life makes us take can be very unusual, don't you think?" Came the vague answer.

"Well then," she continued. "It was extremely pleasant entertaining you fine gentlemen, but if you're not going to drag me from my own home, I do have some work to do."

"Don't worry about it," Hank said, getting up with a groan. "As far as I'm aware, you joined the evacuation and we were immediately on our way."

"Give me a call, Mr. Anderson," She said, grinning wickedly and giving him a business card. "You were a wonderful drinking partner. I didn't have this much fun in years."

"Ah, well I… Sure, ah…" Hank mumbled awkwardly, and quickly opened the door, stepping into the dark snowy evening. Connor had no choice but to walk out after him.

"What was that all about?" the detective asked no one in particular once they were both inside the car, him at the passenger seat for a change.

"I don't know yet," Connor said. "But I am going to investigate this place. There was definitely something wrong with that woman."

"Tell me about it," Hank grumbled.

Connor started the car, and began steering out of the alley. The drive back to the station was mostly silent, the now ghost city of Detroit having a strange effect on their mood. And in their quiet melancholy neither android nor human noticed the small silver toy nestled in Hank's pocket.

* * *

A/N: The plot thickens. And Hank might have an admirer. Of course Anfisa is a complicated lady of many mysteries, but good drinking buddies are hard to find.

I hope the story isn't too weird. I know this chapter was very OC heavy, but the next will focus mostly on Connor and Hank, don't worry about it.


End file.
